


I Just Fell, Don't Know Why

by broadwayblainey



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, klaine valentines challange 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 08:29:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13543572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/broadwayblainey/pseuds/broadwayblainey
Summary: I haven't posted anything for a month, I'm bad at this.This is my fic for the first day of the Klaine Valentines Challange





	I Just Fell, Don't Know Why

Kurt wasn't sure if he was glad that the side street he had been told to go down was almost empty when he got to it, he supposed it gave him a minute to calm his nerves. But, it wasn't exactly appealing; two women stood near the corner blowing cigarette smoke as they cackled and the bouncer who stood outside a peeling red painted door was intimidating and would probably see right through him. The vibrations of a disco song Kurt didn't recognize thrummed through him and he decided to go for it before he could talk himself out of it. His palms were clammy despite the chill in the November New York air and when he handed the bouncer his fake ID, he crossed his fingers behind his back. When he was waved in he let out a breath he had been holding and followed the noise of clubgoers along a short hallway until he found the main bar.  
It was overwhelming, as he looked around. People were crammed into seemingly every inch of the place; sweaty young men dancing wildly, pressed together with wide smiles and wild eyes; men in leather swaying together with their heads thrown back, laughing loudly; older men lined the edge of the dancefloor, some dancing along to a pretty drag queen as she performed a Donna Summer song, some eyeing the younger men, some clearly only eyeing eachother, their gray heads close together and their arms wrapped around each other; women, some in dresses, some in their underwear, some in suits, some in elaboratley detailed outfits, danced and took shots off of a table near the bar. They were doing other things, too, Kurt noticed; little, thin white lines powdered the table, their users bending down and sniffing before tipping their heads back, covering their faces as they giggled and fell into each other. Drag kings and queens in outfits that Kurt was both startled by and jealous of poured drinks straight into peoples mouths and called to each other, barely audible over the music.  
There was leather and sweat and booze and his boots stuck to the floor with every step he took. The music made his heart thump and the crowd gave him a mild sense of claustrophobia. People were drunk and high and in each other laps, making out and dancing on bars and he should have felt nervous and unsure, maybe even scared but, God, he had never felt more at home anywhere.  
It was 1989, he was nineteen years old, and he was in his first gay bar.  
By some miracle he found an empty stool at the bar and hopped up onto it, turning in it to face the bar. There was a pretty brunette bartender behind it, her long hair wavy and pinned into a long ponytail. She had four full glasses in her hands and was clearly run off of her feet when she stopped in front of Kurt.  
"I'm sorry, sweetie," she said, voice strained above the music. "I'll get someone to help you out, give me one second," she handed the drinks over to the group of people next to him and began pouring another, she turned her head and shouted into the door between the shelves of various liquors and spirits. "Hey, Blaine! You feel like doing some work at some point this year?"  
With that, a man appeared in the doorway. He was cute, Kurt thought. Really cute, his black curls slicked high on his head, with pretty, wide eyes and a white polo, which was probably too tight; it stretched across his arms and chest and the buttons were open, showing the tanned dips of his collarbones. When his eyes met Kurt's across the bar he smiled, walking over and leaning on the bar, and Kurt tried to blame the speed of his pulse on the heavy bass as the song changed again.  
"You're new," he stated, leaning in closer to Kurt so he could hear him. "I haven't seen you before."  
"Yeah, first time," Kurt praised himself for only staring into the man's eyes for a few seconds before answering.  
"Oh, lucky me," he teased, smiling wider and making Kurt blush. "How old are you?"  
"Uh -"  
"Because if you say you're twenty-one, I can make you a drink," he paused, meeting Kurt's eyes as he pulled a glass from a shelf below the bar. "If not, I have to ask you to leave, and I really don't want to do that."  
"Then I'm twenty-one," Kurt laughed and Blaine joined him.  
"Perfect," Blaine said and started pouring Kurt a drink in a tall glass.  
"You know, I didn't order anything."  
"I know," Blaine said, smiling again and pushing the glass onto the bar in front of Kurt. "But I always know what people like."  
"Really?" Kurt quirked an eyebrow and raised the drink to his mouth. After he sipped he coughed slightly, he had never drunk before, not even in high school. Blaine chuckled at him, reaching over and wiping the little bit of drink that had been spluttered onto the corner of his mouth with his thumb.  
"It really is your first time," Blaine said, smiling warmly and studying Kurt's face as he took his money and handed it to the other bartender. "Let me guess," he was close again, elbows resting on the bar, and looking into Kurt's eyes. "You're from Indiana."  
"Ohio, actually," Kurt snarked, a little embarrassed. "Am I that obvious?"  
"Kind of," Blaine admitted, his lips turned up in a small smirk. "You should lose the jacket," he suggested, and Kurt did, shrugging off his jacket and tying it around his waist. "Yeah, with arms like that, you'll fit right in," Kurt giggled again, turning away to try and hide the blush that was stinging his cheeks. "What's your name? In my head I just keep calling you 'Blue Eyes' and, I imagine, that's not it."  
"I'm Kurt."  
"Yeah, and this is Blaine," the pretty bartender from before said as she wrapped an arm around Blaine's shoulder. "He's working right now, at least he should be but instead I have to serve 100 thirsty queens alone, but he gets off at two. If you're still here, he'll by you a drink and probably kiss you a little," she pressed two empty glasses into Blaine's hands and looked at him pointedly. "Sound about right?"  
"Perfect," Blaine agreed, stepping away from Kurt and to the other end of the bar. "Save a dance for me, Kurt."  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Kurt didn't dance, it turned out. No matter how good the music was, or how appealing the grind of bodies on the dancefloor seemed, he couldn't find the courage to broach it alone. He sat at the bar and watched and, often, wasn't alone. A good-looking, sweet and very drunk young man admitted in a slur that this was his first time in a gay bar and, when Kurt admitted the same, he asked if Kurt was as scared as he was. Kurt just laughed as he danced away.  
"Hey," someone said right in his ear. When he turned and saw Blaine next to him he felt something swoop in his stomach that he hadn't felt before.  
"Hey," Kurt breathed, and then repeated it loudly when he realized Blaine probably couldn't hear him.  
"Do you want to dance?" Blaine asked.  
"I don't think I know how," Kurt confessed, looking out into the crowd of dancing bodies and feeling more than slightly intimidated.  
"I'm a good teacher," Blaine replied, slipping his sweaty hand into Kurt's sweatier one and pulling him onto the dancefloor before he could protest. They found a gap near the center and stopped there, turning to look at each other. Blaine let go of Kurt's hand in favor of wrapping it around Kurt's waist, pulling him closer and slipping his arms around him. "Put yours around my neck," Blaine teased, and Kurt pinched his shoulder in reply before doing so. He felt clumsy, unsure of how to move like this, with Blaine pressed against him and strangers up against his back. "Just relax," Blaine angled his head forward and murmured into Kurt's ear. "Dance with me."  
And he did. They danced like that for a while, wound close together in a way that made Kurt flush to the tip of his ears and his pulse thrum. They separated a little when the crowd began to thin as the night turned to early morning, their hands linked and grins wide.  
The music changed. It was something slow that Kurt didn't know; a woman's voice, slowing the pace of the bar. Kurt looked around and watched people pull each other close. Something twinged inside him; he had never done this before either.  
"Come here," Blaine said, winding an arm around Kurt again until they were flush together; he guided Kurt's arms up and around his neck and they swayed together.  
Kurt didn't know he would feel like this so soon, or ever. He felt like he imagined his friends felt when they spoke of their crushes in high school; giddy on the feeling of someone wanting him close, on the feeling of someone's hands on the small of his back, on the faint press of someone's lips on his neck, barely there but he felt it when Blaine moved.  
"What song is this?" he asked, Blaine's ear barely an inch away from his mouth. He wanted to remember the song, the smell of Blaine's hair gel, the fingers that were in the belt loop at the waist of his jeans. Kurt wanted to remember every detail.  
"It's Debbie Gibson, I think," Blaine said, tipping his head back to listen and look at Kurt. "Yeah, 'Lost In Your Eyes.'"  
They danced together until the song ended and Blaine loosened his grip on Kurt, stepping back. Kurt's stomach tied up, he didn't want this to be over, he didn't want to stop being close. Before he could panic, Blaine's warm palm cupped his jaw. He studied Kurt's expression again, his thumb rubbing along Kurt's cheekbone.  
Then he kissed him.  
Blaine's other hand grazed Kurt's neck before settling in his hair, and Kurt's hands gripped Blaine's arms. He didn't feel nervous like he thought he would. He didn't fret over whether or not he was doing it right like he thought he would. He just did it; he let Blaine guide him and, when they pulled back, the butterflies in his stomach weren't from fear, for once.  
"You want to get out of here?" Blaine asked, lips still brushing against his. Kurt's eye must have let him down because Blaine stroked his cheek and hummed quietly. "We don't have to do anything, I just don't want to say 'goodbye' yet."  
"Okay."


End file.
